Schiit
Audio Magni pyst
By any other name
It helps, maybe, to know something of Mike
Moffat, late of Theta, who has teamed up with Jason Stoddard, ex-Sumo, to form
Schiit. Mike, whom I’ve known seemingly forever, is sixtysomething going on 14:
he delights in the sort of jokes that would inspire consternation in a pool
hall or a prison. If you’re of a fragile constitution, wondering why the risqué
name, and not accepting defences like ‘one of Europe’s biggest-selling soft
drinks is named “Pschitt”’, we understand. But we also suggest that you do not
let potty-mouth puns (the website asks, ‘Why don’t you check out our Schiit?’)
deter you: this is a serious brand. Moffat and Stoddard have designed dozens of
high-end products, including Theta’s Andromeda III and the Cobalt 307. MM is
responsible for some of the finest digital processors I have ever used. Period.
Just about the only puns they’ve resisted so far are a Class A amp called ‘Hot
Schiit’, the ‘Schiit-Kicker’ subwoofer and an MC step-up called ‘Schiit Head’.
Let’s not give them any ideas, eh?
Schiit
Audio Magni review 1
What is the Schiit?
As much as one may want to believe that
only expensive equipment needs coddling, the Magni benefited from warm-up as
much as the D’Agostino I have sizzling in the other room. It grew progressively
smoother and more refined as the minutes passed by, settling down to optimum
after a half-hour. And it behaved just like a full-size amplifier, reacting to
its loads with changes in composure.
These included the easy-peasy B&W P3,
the hungrier Focal Spirit Classic and the extreme high-end AKG K812. Oldies
included Sennheiser HD414s and Grado RS-1s. None of the headphones caused any
consternation – this unit drove everything I plugged into it. Source was
another matter, but only because this is ‘Budget Esoterica’ and I did not want
to feed it with something utterly out of context: I even felt a bit guilty
using the B&Ws for most of the listening, because they cost $285.54.
Instead, I stuck with an iPod classic, via
a 32-pin-to-phono adapter, without some clever DAC inbetween. This is about
minimalism, and about how it will be used in the real world. Yes, I also fed it
from my computer with some high-res downloads, and even a burst with the Audio
Research CD6, but the remarks here are based mainly on its use with the iPod. I
was reminded of the wonders of the affordable goodies from Audio Alchemy, all
those years ago: this Schiit rocks.
Schiit
Audio Magni review 2
A dose of powerpop opened the sessions,
with The Wonders’ CD single ‘That Thing You Do’ possessing all of the snap I was hoping to hear. Its punchy opening drum salvo
leads into a deliriously authentic, deliberately thin-sounding electric bass/
jangly guitar mix, fronted by Beatlesque harmonies. Yes, it’s too knowing a
pastiche to fool anyone who doesn’t realise that it came from a movie made in
1996, but its sincerity, jauntiness and affection for the genre make it as
‘lovable’ as Ringo c.1964.
Through the Magni, the sound was acceptably
wide, if not as airy as the $116.58-dearer Musical Fidelity V90 HPA (which also
has a fine DAC). What it lost in absolute refinement, it made up for with solid,
extended bass, convincing decay on the kick-drum and good spacing of the vocalists.
In a mood for more post-Fab Four pop, I gravitated toward Badfinger’s Timeless…
The Musical Legacy [Apple CDSAPCOR 31], longing to hear the opening piano of
‘Come And Get It’. Suitably church-like bass followed in cadence, sweet vocals
above, cymbals far left – the mix of textures caused no loss of composure. The track
is actually minimalist, but through the Magni, it acquired a definite grandeur.
Which is exactly what was needed by the
strings-driven ‘Maybe Tomorrow’ – one of rock’s great, lost ballads. So
heart-wrenching, even without knowing the tragedies that befell the band, it
begs for delicacy and refinement. The Magni remains a bit Eliza Doolittle, pre-
‘Rain In Spain’, but the device earns A-for-effort because it never turns
coarse. At least, not as coarse as its name.
